Recently, I've been crook with a virus that drained all the energy out of me. Because I was feeling tired, I didn't change the kitty litter for a long time. Shmoggleberry is pretty good about an unclean box. He'll do solid waste just outside it, but will keep doing No.1's in it until its swimming. Once the the box is completely full, he'll do his wet business in the shower. Its my fault he does it, so I never get mad at him, and besides, its a fairly easy place to clean.

Unfortunately my toothbrush had fallen out of its holder and onto the shower floor. After two days of sleeping and nothing else, my teeth felt terrible (not to mention what my breath must have been like) and I knew I had to remove the sludge from my mouth. I wandered into the bathroom, only to see the cat puddle in the shower recess. Ergh. So I turned on the hot water to wash it down the plug-hole, not realising that the hot water would spread the puddle to the far reaches of the recess before it went down the drain. There was my toothbrush, just on the side, and as the water filled the shower I realised what was going to happen. Yuuuk!

So I think to myself - must sterilise the brush. I look for disinfectant. None. So then I look for bleach. I came up empty handed. So I think to myself that the only thing to do is to *boil* the toothbrush, because I couldn't raise the energy to travel the 2km and fight the crowds at the supermarket.

At this point, I'll have to point out that I'm a polymer chemist. I'm *supposed* to know about plastics and their properties. But I guess the 'flu or whatever it was had got into my brain. I placed the offending toothbrush into the boiling saucepan of soapy water, and waited the prescribed 15 minutes for the heat to kill off the germs.

I should have known better. Toothbrushes are thermoplastic, they melt when heated. I *know* this. I have a piece of paper from a reputable university to show that I *know* this. My employers have been paying me for 10 years or so because I *know* this. But I was still surprised when I extracted the interesting mass of twisted and mutated ex-toothbrush, with a bizarre and slightly macabre set of whiskers on its head.

No surprisingly, I suddenly found the energy to change the litterbox. I've kept the mortal remains of the toothbrush to remind myself that I'm not always as smart as I think I am, and that I really ought to change that darn litterbox more often.

Copyright © Vicky Chapman
July 25, 1999